Mixtape

Somebody Else

I stood in the corner of the room and watched him as he sipped away at a margarita and scrolled through his phone, probably on grindr or tinder trying to get his fill.

This was the worst part of the night. The part where I tried not to get blind drunk while I watched him find a hookup and then give up and get hammered enough to not remember what the guy he went home with looked like.

I saw a boy come up behind him and wrap his arms around his small waist, forcing me to turn around quickly and ordered a vodka and coke. I was stupid enough to take a glance over again and see them making out. Apparently, they were starting to get serious, but as I quickly threw back half of the glass I realised that I didn't even care what his name was.

It was my fault, after all. Mitch had come to me months ago and told me that he loved me. That he wanted to try and make "us" work. I'd wanted to, really. Imagine waking up to those perfect brown eyes every morning and getting to kiss those soft pink lips whenever you want. I'd have to be mad to say no.

I guess I'm mad.

It's irrational. I can't tell the boy of my dreams that we can't be together and then suddenly be wanting him out of the hands of another man. What would I even say?

"Hey Mitch, I don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else." That really would not go well. Especially when he thinks that the reason we're not together is because I don't want him that way. The truth is so much more complex and I knew he'd try to change my mind if I'd told him my real worries.

The truth was that I knew I'd fuck up. I'd say something or do something and Mitch would never speak to me again. I told myself that we were closer than any two people on the planet and that it couldn't happen, but really that's just all the more reason to not risk it. We were also never alone anymore. We barely had time together as Scott and Mitch, there was no way we'd be getting enough time as 'Scott and Mitch'. So I guess we were here. Working on our careers and getting money.

I pushed the thought to the back of my head and downed the rest of the glass before ordering three shots and tipping them all back in quick succession.

My feet were on the dancefloor before the dizzying reality of my new drunkenness could find me and I had my chest pressed to the back of a thin blond boy, holding his hips as we danced and laughed. I wasn't sure when, but those hips became the waist of a tall brunette and then the arm of my best friend.

"What the fuck Scott?!" Mitch hit my chest when we were in a more quiet corner of the club, away from his boy toy and away from all of the other dancing distractions.

"Are you trying to get back at me?"

"Get back at you for what?"

"For not wanting to date you! Is this your way of making me jealous?"

"Are you kidding me, Scott? I laid everything out to you and you turned me down and you're thinking that I'm going to keep wasting my time and trying to make you jealous? Yeah, that's totally what I'm doing. Not actually enjoying myself with someone who I enjoy the company of." He rolled his eyes, which I was glad for because I wasn't really sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

I didn't speak for a few moments, just blankly staring at his face, trying to string together a sentence that explained the whirlwind of emotions that were fluttering in my stomach while making my brain short-circuit. "You're going to hate me for this." I sighed and ran my hands through my hair before deciding to just bite the bullet. "I think I love you too. I wasn't sure if I should tell you because every inch of my body said that us being together was a bad idea and now that I'm saying it out loud I'm not sure if I actually believe that or if it's a self-preservation thing but seeing you out there with that guy is really making me realise that I'm not as okay with it as I told myself I was."